When I had children, I wanted to give them the “perfect” life. Their childhood has turned out to be a far cry from “perfect,” but I think they are the lucky ones.
I just got back from visiting extended family in Utah. The trip was filled with constant reminders of “the good life.” Big beautiful homes, parents who love each other, and summer plans that include luxury vacations and lots of togetherness. It’s exactly the life I wanted my children to live, but as I arrived home I remembered how grateful I am for what we do have.
My children have been given incredible gifts through the hardships our family has faced. Watching me work 40+ hours a week has taught them that money doesn’t always come easy. Our small, humble home has taught them that happiness doesn’t come in the form of big backyards and extra bedrooms. My divorce has taught us gratitude for the little things, like spending time together on a holiday. Even though we don’t have a perfect looking family, they still have a Mom and a Dad that love them and not everybody has that. They have learned that grown-ups make mistakes, but we can right those wrongs through forgiveness, moving forward, and becoming better people. I didn’t intend to give my children this “imperfect” life, but in some ways, they have gained even more than they have lost.
I’ve also realized that it’s my own selfish image that I was fighting for in wanting that “perfect life.” I wanted other people to think I was successful, but my kids don’t judge the size of our home or the way we look in a picture frame.
I still battle feeling guilty for not giving my children the life that I wanted to give them. I wonder if they want that life too; but in the end, in a weird way, I think they are the lucky ones. They are more resilient, grateful, and forgiving people because of it.
